


Crazy Little Thing Called Love

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: Elizabeth Andersson is about to get deported back to Sweden, but her dedicated assistant, Dean Winchester, comes up with a solution.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Crazy Little Thing Called Love

**Author's Note:**

> For SPN Fluff Bingo 2019, this fills the square Proposal AU.

“I think I have to shut down the company.”

That tiny statement played on loop, a broken record intent on ruining everything he had worked for over the last decade. Dean Winchester stared at the center of her desk, unseeing. He had taken a chance on the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to do some honest work, to get out of the family rut just like Sam had. He had invested over ten years of work into that stroke of luck only to have the rug pulled out from under his feet.

“Dean?” she repeated. “Are you… are you going to be okay? Do you think you could find another job soon? I’d hate to leave you unemployed, but I don’t have much of a choice.”

Dean shook his head as though to clear his rambling thoughts. “What happened?”

* * *

“My Visa. I have to go back to Sweden,” she said. “I've been trying to get dual citizenship for years but my number hasn't come up yet and so every year like a good little ex-pat, I renew my work visa. They denied it this year.”

Of course. Why wouldn't bureaucracy fuck him over. “There has to be something we can do.”

She shook her head, stray wisps of her blonde falling loose from her typically perfect coiffure. Dark circles weighed heavy on her eyes and lost was her usual spark, that flame that shined so bright. It pained him to see her that way, vulnerable and defeated. So Dean did what he did best.

“Let's go out,” he said as he stood. “One last happy hour.”

Elizabeth sighed as she motioned to her desk. “I can't, Dean. I've got a mountain of work to do—”

“No, you don't,” he started as he reached across her desk and grasped her hand. “It'll all still be here tomorrow. I promise.”

Her jaw worked as she searched for the excuses. “Alright,” she said with an exasperated huff. “Where are we going?”

“The Amsterdam?” he asked as he held up his fingers in a makeshift A.

Elizabeth stood and grabbed her coat from the nearby rack. “The Amsterdam, as always. Lead the way.”

* * *

“I've got an idea,” Dean started, “but I don't think you're gonna like it.”

Elizabeth stared over the rim of her glass as she sipped her whiskey. The heavy crystal thudded on the think oak of the bar as she set it there, then said, “I'm all ears, Dean. You know I love to listen to you talk.”

Great. Dean filled his lungs work a deep breath, then spoke. “Marry me.”

Elizabeth didn't miss a beat, her barking laughter filling the bar and drawing the eyes of other patrons. A few tears even rolled down her cheeks when she regarded him once, then twice, only to break into a further fit of giggles.

After a long, embarrassing minute, Elizabeth noticed his discomfort and quieted. “You were serious.”

After that reaction, Dean wanted little to do with the thought. “I was just joking,” he said with a flippant wave of his hand. “Stupid, really. I mean, we'd have to live together, act like a real couple, go on dates, have sex. Sounds like a lot of work just to—”

His words clipped short when Elizabeth's lips landed on his, and Dean nearly fell off his car stool. But then he was on his feet, pressing between her spread thighs, and she has to push him back lest he fold her right there in the bar.

“I'll marry you, Dean. On one condition,” she said.

He grinned against her lips as he said, “Anything.”

“Tell me you've always loved me,” she demanded. “Tell me it wasn't all in my head and you actually love me.”

Dean wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her to his chest, holding her tight. A trail of kisses placed along her jaw stopped at her ear and Dean spoke.

“I love you, Ms. Andersson. I've loved you for years, since the day we met.” He returned to her lips for a brief kiss, then added. “And it wasn't your legs, or your ass, or your tits, or your lips, or those hazel eyes of yours that seem to change colors on a whim. It was your heart that won me over the first time we talked. Your passion knows no bounds, Elizabeth. I admire that tenacity, that dedication. And if you love me even half as much, I'll die a happy man at the end of my days.”

If Dean knew Elizabeth half as much as he hoped, her underwear would be ruined after that, and she would invite him back to her place. And though she gaped in wide wonder at him, the moment passed as fast as it came. Elizabeth grinned as she asked, “My ass really did nothing for you?”

His hands slid down her back. “Maybe a little.” As his touch smoothed over the supple curve of her ass, he hummed through his nose, more than pleased.

“Well?” she asked.

He licked his lips in anticipation. “Okay, you caught me. I’ve dreamed of your fat bottom,” he sighed. “Imagined my face buried in it, fucking it, grabbing it, slapping it. God, you’re death on two legs. I need you, Liz. You're the love of my life.”

She smiled a coy smirk at him as she said, “Alright, lover boy. Let’s go home.”


End file.
